


Mirror Reflection

by m3aculpa



Category: Glee
Genre: Community: glee_kink_meme, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bryan just wanted to make Schuester hurt in the way he was hurting. And he knew that the only way to get to Schuester, was to go after his kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Mirror Reflection  
>  **Fandom:** Glee **  
> Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Bryan Ryan, Kurt, Bryan Ryan/Kurt  
>  **Warnings:** Non-con (no, really?)  
>  **Word count:** 1267  
>  **Prompt:** Written for [this](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/1224.html?thread=4378824#t4378824) prompt at the [](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/profile)[**glee_kink_meme**](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/) : Bryan Ryan/Kurt non-con. Because Bryan knows that the easiest way to hurt Will is to hurt one of his kids. And Kurt happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
>  **Summary** : Bryan just wanted to make Schuester hurt in the way he was hurting. And he knew that the only way to get to Schuester, was to go after his kids.  
> 

After Sue had burst in and humiliated him by informing him that Will- _fucking_ -Schuester had been cast as Jean Valjean, he had to duck inside a restroom to calm down. Bryan splashed water onto his face. I still felt hot after his humiliated flush. Not even the water did anything to cool him down.  
   
He thought he’d accepted it. He thought he could stand and watch the plays and accept that it would never been him up there. Then he heard that William- _fucking_ -Schuester was teaching here. And that he was coaching a glee club. It had incensed him when he first heard it. Will was just installing the same fruitless hopes in these kids that they had installed in them as kids.  
   
He came here to squash the glee club. Give them a realistic view of reality. Instead he’d been pulled back in by Schuester into the idealistic world of show choir. That moment when he thought that he might actually live his dream, had healed all the wounds. And then when the part went to Schuester he’d crashed again. And it had _hurt_. Even worse than the first time.  
   
He wanted to make Schuester hurt in that way. He wanted to make Schuester hurt just as much. But Schuester had no weak points except his kids. And Bryan wasn’t sure that he was willing to cross that line.  
   
He reached for a towel to dry off his face when the door opened.  
   
“Go, ‘cedes, I just need to freshen up a little,” a voice smilingly told somebody outside.  
   
Bryan watched in the mirror as one of Schuester’s kids came in through the door. It was the boy who wore the cheerleading uniform. The kid stopped briefly when he saw Bryan Ryan. His features became carefully neutral.  
   
“Mister Ryan,” he said blankly.  
   
Bryan watched the kid walk up to the mirror. He didn’t say a word. The kid started to fiddle with his hair. He nervously glanced toward Bryan. He could understand him. Bryan looked a bit pale and dangerous in his reflection, even to himself.  
   
It started to roar in his ears. He couldn’t look away from the kid. One of Schuester’s kids. One of those precious, precious kids whose club Schuester had tried to save so hard. For which he’d made Bryan believe again. The roaring got louder. He watched the kid’s pale neck. The nervous flicker of the cyan eyes. He imagined how Will would react if something happened to this kid. It made him hard.  
   
He took a step away from the kid and watched the shoulders sag slightly in relief. He locked the door. Immediately the kid turned around and stared at him with wide, nervous eyes. Bryan smiled and took a step closer. The kid backed away warily. It impressed him slightly that the kid got suspicious so quickly. Most people had a tendency to be more trusting.  
   
“What are you doing?” the kid asked with false bravado.  
   
Bryan ignored the question, “What’s your name?”  
   
“Kurt,” the kid replied after a moment of hesitation and crossed his arms over his chest uneasily.  
   
Bryan carefully eased his tie so he would be more comfortable. His breath caught in his throat. A part of him was disbelieving, couldn’t believe what he was about to do. Another part was excited. He could clearly imagine Schuester’s reaction when he found the kid. And he would make sure that Schuester found him.  
   
“Well, Kurt, don’t take this personally,” he advised almost kindly.  
   
He grabbed the kid. Kurt tried to twist out of his grasp, but didn’t succeed. He struggled wildly, but didn’t scream. Bryan got him back under control and bent the kid over the sink. He pressed his arousal against the firm buttocks and heard the kid’s breaths hitch. He looked into the mirror and met those wide terrified eyes. He leant down to murmur in the kid’s ear,  
   
“You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”  
   
He pulled down the pants and the underwear. The kid trashed under him and tried to kick him. He bent him further over the sink and effectively immobilised him. He used his other hand to pull up the kid’s head. He met those eyes in the mirror and the realisation was there. Kurt knew what was happening, even if there was horrified denial in those eyes.  
   
That denial disappeared when Bryan shoved three of his fingers into the tight ass. The kid cried out and tried to get away. Bryan was relentless. He kept shoving those fingers in and out until the kid was sobbing; little helpless, pained sound that made his arousal grow harder. His fingers were slick with blood. His cock was so hard it hurt. He could see Schuester’s reaction before his eyes. Tears and self-recrimination. It was _beautiful_.  
   
“Look at yourself,” he hissed and forced Kurt’s head up.  
   
The kid’s eyes were wet and tears matted his eyelashes together. He sobbed and clenched his eyes shut. Bryan tore out his fingers with little care. He unzipped his pants and freed his aching erection. The kid struggled anew when he felt Bryan’s bare skin against his own. But he couldn’t move much, pressed into the sink as he was. Bryan smiled darkly.  
   
“No,” the kid sobbed and shook his head in denial. “Oh, God, no. Why are you doing this?”  
   
Bryan just breathed harshly and aligned his cock. He held Kurt up by his hair and made him watch him. He started to shove in. The kid was too tight for one smooth thrust. Instead he had to work himself inside inch by inch. The kid was crying and whimpering in pain. Bryan was too far gone to even feel bad for him.  
   
He was fully sheeted inside that tight, hot heat. The muscles kept clenching and unclenching, as if they were trying to push him out. He started to thrust. The kid kept making pained noises as he rocked back and forth. He watched those blue-green eyes glaze over in pain and horror. Then he lost himself in the imagined horrified, guilty reaction of William Schuester. He wanted Schuester to know that this was his fault.  
   
“You,” he grunted, “wouldn’t… ah… even, uh, be here… oh… if it wasn’t for, uh, ah, your beloved mister Schue.”  
   
The kid wasn’t hearing him. Not really. It didn’t really matter; it wasn’t about him. Bryan pounded into the kid with a punishing rhythm that made Kurt rock into the sink. He imagined Schuester’s reaction and came with a violent thrust, which earned him a screeching sob from the boy. He came in thick, short spurts and filled Kurt up. Cruelly he pulled out, tucked himself back in and released the boy. Cum trickled out of his ass together with blood. The insides of his thighs were sticky with it.  
   
Kurt gracelessly slid to floor and curled up in a trembling pile. His jaws were clenched and his eyes were shut against the horror. Bryan swiped his phone and took a picture. He made sure that the cum and the blood was clear. Then he spent a while trying to figure out how to send the image to Schuester (the kid had his number under ‘Mister Schue’ – wasn’t that sweet?). He texted a hateful message: ‘This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you’.  
   
He pressed ‘send’ and tossed the phone at the prone, crying figure on the floor.  
   
He unlocked the door and left.  
   
He felt the sudden need to leave for New York. Wonder what plays were on Broadway this time of the year?

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel: [Shadows Searching](http://archiveofourown.org/works/270007).


End file.
